The Ballad of Nikki Harlan-Season 1
by H. Reilly
Summary: Life at McKinley High is not easy for sophomore Nikki Harlan. But one day, fate leads her to a budding New Directions. Will she finally fit in? This is the re-telling of Glee with my OC. Please read and review.


_Note; I do not own Glee, FOX Network does. Except for Nikki and other original characters my mind cooks up, all characters are also owned by FOX Network. This is an experiment on my part, as I only just recently got in to Glee. If this works out, I wil consider continuing. Please review and enjoy _

**Pilot**

William McKinley High. The pride of Lima, Ohio. Just another originally named high school in some dinky small town that no one's ever heard of. I mean come on, the town is named after a freaking bean. If I seem a little bit on the side of angst, it's because on Monday I found out my almost-three-week boyfriend is cheating on me with a chess nerd. I might as well slap a sticker on my shirt that says 'Hello, potential boyfriends. I'm Nikki Harlan, the red-head girl who sits behind you in Biology next to that kid in a wheelchair. Feel free to crush my soul with your little brother's soccer cleats.'

In case you're having trouble seeing the kind of person I am, here's a sum up. My father is forty-two and is known at this workplace for being an expert guitarist, his perscription glasses and love for old sci-fi/horror movies.. Marshall, two years my senior is an excellent drummer, the very essence of a D&amp;D player, a first class comic book nerd and the best big brother in the world. I wear a para-military jacket and cap with tie-dye tee shirts, reprisenting the balance of war and peace. If an animal died for me it's because I'm eating it, not wearing it. I love blue raspberry flavored candy and I don't care if some people think blue food is creepy and unnatural. Food is food is food, period.

I don't know if I was still irked about being dumped for a freshman with braces and back acne. Or because I had once again failed to notice the puddle of berry passion smoothie in the hallway until I slipped it. That in turn had started a chorus of laughter from the most dangerous clique for a weird kid like me, the Cheerios. What was it with this place and naming things after food? Maybe I wanted to turn over a new leaf in the grueling existance I called my life. But I found myself signing up for try-outs for the new glee club that Wednesday at lunch. I had heard through the school rumor mill that Mr. Ryerson was fired for messing with a student, at least that's what they say. Now the Spanish teacher took over, I think his name was Mr. Schuester. I was told I had a pretty good voice, thanks to the karaoke machine I received for my ninth birthday.

I scanned the sign-up sheet for the New Directions for any names I recognized. Mercedes Jones, a powerhouse of a girl who had been my BFF since third grade when Alec Braden drew a moustache and freckles on my Jack Skellington notebook. She helped me develop my sense of self, and I in turn help keep her from 'over-doing' on the diva routine. Artie Abrams lived a few streets away from me. In fact he was a guitarist for Marshall's Jazz band and the dungeon master of his campaign. Aside from a few names I didn't know there were only five altogether, so I figured it wouldn't be too much of a risk if this didn't work. So I clicked my lucky ballpoint and signed myself into what was o be the biggest drama fest of my life. But then again, this was high school.

…

Standing on the stage of the auditorium later that afternoon, I was somewhat at ease that Mr. Schuester was the only one in the audience. I had heard he was a nice guy and didn't criticize too hard, his smile didn't disprove that. I handed the sheet music to the pianist whose name I couldn't remember at the time. Setting my messenger bag to the side, I sucked in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"My name is Nikki Harlan and I wil be singing 'El Dorado' by Sir Elton John."

He nodded his head as the piano guy warmed up.I think my heart skipped a few beats while I was standing there. Why was I doing this again? What was I thinking? But as the song began, I was reminded of why I chose it for try-outs. It was a ballad with a message that related to how we saw our home as something given to us by some greater being. And we had care for this gift, and teach others to do so. Finally I centered myself, suced in the deepest breath I could and began.

_Our gloriuos city_

_Was built by the divnities, by Gods_

_Who saw fit to bestow_

_The gift of a paradise_

_Peaceful and harmonious upon_

_Us mere mortals below._

_And made El Dorado_

_The magnificant and golden_

_One thousand years ago._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

As I sang, I could see Mr. Schuester smiling. Actually smiling! But I didn't want to lose my place, so I kept on to the second verse.

_But all this was granted_

_For only one millenium._

_I know my destiny is to fulfill_

_My promise to all my people_

_Who have trusted me, the Gods_

_Will approve of us still._

_Preserve El Dorado_

_The magnificant and golden_

_And I believe they will._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

The short instrumental break gave me a chance to see Mr. Schuester's smile had spread. I prepared for the bridge.

_The mountains so high, and waters deep_

_Are her disguise._

_Her secrets are safe from foreign hands_

_And eyes forever._

_Preserve El Dorado_

_The magnificant and golden_

_And I believe they will._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

_El Dorado, El Dorado, El Dorado._

I held the last note for four counts until the song ended. I had done it. I had sang to someone who wasn't family or close friend. But I never expected the clapping from Mr. Schuester's direction. Nor did I expect the words that left his mouth to my ears.

"Wonderful job. Rehersals start next week."

…

At the moment I was mentally begging for someone to hit me over the head with a guitar, but then it would be a waste of a perfectly good Fender. Auditions for the New Directions had come and gone. I figured that the only reasons all six people who signed up got in due to lack of participants and desperation. But that was just the beginning.

Based on how much we sucked at our first rehersal, I figured New Directions would sink and I'd be back to dodging smoothie puddles and deflecting Cheerio ridicule by the end of the week. Our corigraphy was way off, the song was from some way old musical and one certain brunette sophomore named Rachel Berry needed a good kick in the pants. Besides, what was with the white gloves, were we trying to perform as classic Disney cartoons? Once the song came to a close, and Artie was wheeled into a table, I was ready to shoot myself when Rachel said what we were all thinking.

"We suck." I could tell Schuester agreed, but wanted to put it gently.

"It…It'll get there. We just need to keep rehearsing."

"Mr. Schuester, do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to give the lead solo in 'Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat' to a boy in a wheelchair?"

That did it. I couldn't take any more from Little-Miss-Can't-Be-Right.

"Gee, a little predjudice are we?" I snapped. Artie had wheeled himself back by now.

"It's okay, Nikki. I think Mr. Schuester is using irony to enhance the performance."

"There is nothing ironic about show choir!" Rachel argued.

"And there's nothing cool about judging people the way you do." I yelled back.

By then we were eye-to-eye. Luckily I knew how to look intimidating with a little something I called "Mad Goat Stink-Eye". If you know that sideways gance that a goat gives you before right they charge, think of that with a mad teenager. I picked it up after spending a few summers at my cousin's farm. Finally, the stuck-up little snit stormed away like a tempermental five year old. By then, the tension in that choir room was thicker than my Aunt Cher's five layer bean dip, so I sat down on a nearby bleacher. I couldn't help it what I did, Rachel was bad mouthing my friend. Something I absolutely cannot ever tolerate. After Schuester left to go find Rachel, the five of us were left. Tina Cohen, he girl who wheeled Artie around spoke first.

"Th-thanks for h-h-helping him. Th-th-that t-took g-g-guts." I smiled at the compliment. Tina may have spoken with an obviosly fake sutter, but she was tough. For her to say that to me was like being given a medal of honor.

"Hey, why not speak up for what you beieve in? Besides, I hear enough about my older brother behind his back without him knowing. Marshall doesn't deserve it, neither do any of us."

"You're Marshall Harlan's sister?" The guy named Kurt Hummel asked. "He is a good drummer."

"Thanks, I'll tell him you're a fan." I replied.

Sure the New Directions weren't the coolest or the most popular clique in McKinley High. But I kept thinking that as long as we were in the club, we should treat each other with respect. I figured I'd ask Mr. Schuester about it later.

Then the next rehearsals came.

…

At first I didn't notice the new guy from the football team, but we all noticed him after he sang the first few notes of 'You're The One That I Want' from Grease. Dang. Finn Hudson had pipes of gold. We needed more guys like him. Heck we needed more guys, period. I stood between Mercedes and Artie at that practice.

When it came Rachel's turn to sing, she totally went back into the 'I'm better than you and I know it' thing. I tried to remain calm, but she was treading on dangerous grounds. She even had the nerve to wheel Artie straight into Mr. Schuester as she passed. Then she stepped right on my heel, it hurt but I kept singing. But what pulled the trigger was when she went all 'show girl moves' with Finn. I was about to blow when Mercedes did it for me.

"Oh, hell to the no. Look, I'm not down with this background singing nonsense. I'm Beyonce. I ain't no Kelly Rowland." Schuester, making another trying effort to smoothen the friction replied.  
"Okay, look, Mercedes, it's just one song."

"And it's the first song we've been kinda good." Kurt did make a good point, we sounded about sixty-two percent better since Finn joined the New Directions. Mercedes knew this too and said to Finn.

"Okay, you're good, white boy. I'll give you that. But you better bring it." Then she turned to Mr. Schuester. "Let's run it again."

This pleased the Schuester, as he clapped is hands once and said.

"All right, let's do it. From the top."

…

Later that week the seven of us Gleeks, as we kindly reffered to ourselves, were treated to a field trip. Mr. Schuester and the school guidance councelor, , all went to someplace called Carmel High School. I swear the food thing is getting old. We were there to observe their glee club in action, which in teenage code means 'check out the competition'.

After I snagged a drink and snack from the convention booth, I headed towards the audiorium when Kurt joined me at my side. We chatted briefly about favorite Freddy Mercury and Elton John songs, but all the while I he kept looking over his shoulder nervously. Kurt had been on edge ever since Finn joined the New Directions, then it all made sense to me.

"BTW, I know the reason you're clinging to me like a wet bathing suit."

Kurt looked shocked at my honesty, maybe a little hurt. I smiled.

"Don't worry about it. I'm cool with it."

He looked a little ashamed before he replied. I knew kids at school were merciless to anyone trying to be different. Small town and all that.

"It's just the way you stood up to Rachel when she insulted Artie. I thought if I stuck with you, then I might learn something about...you know."

"Finding your voice?" I completed. "Actually the truth is Rachel's one of the only people at school I've ever stood up to. Heck, I was scared stiff. But Artie needed help, and the way I see it we need to stick together, help eachother. Or we'll just end up becoming another fake society who would sell out their friends to the highest bidder. United we stand, divided we fall"

After I was done talking, I looked at Kurt. The only word that could describe the look in his eyes was inspired. Relieved, even.

"That's a good point, Nikki." he agreed.

"And don't worry about Finn, he'll come around." I reassured, then added. "And if he doesn't I'll bury him alive and do a happy dance on his grave."

"Good for you." Kurt said nervously.

As we marched single file down the row of seats, Mr. Schuester leaned over and said to us.

"Hey, guys, so this is supposed to be our competition, but, uh, I honestly don't think that they've got the talent that we've got. But let's be a good audience, all right? Give 'em some of that old McKinley High respect." Then as the announcer's voice boomed overhead folowed by applause.

"Please give a warm Buckeye State welcome to last year's regional champions, Vocal Adrenaline!"

Vocal Adrenaline? Interesing name, but sounds like a new name for an old brand of cough medicine. The music begins and immediately I recognize the song. 'Rehab' by Amy Winehouse, good and soulful sounding. First they began with a few lines from the state song, but then I felt my gut tingle. Which was my intuition telling me something important, and after the well choriographed and even beter sung performance; with the whole audience cheering and clapping, I knew it and Tina took the words from my mouth.

"We're d-d-doomed."

…

Well I certainly felt like a complete loser after going to Carmel High. I felt like I had signed up for a lost cause. But at least I made some new friends, sort of. I mean maybe I would add them my MySpace page, and I would see them in the halls, sure. But nothing prepared me for what I'd hear when I got to the auditorium that day.

"You're leaving us?, When?" Artie asked.

"Well, I've given my two weeks' notice, but I promise I'm gonna find you guys a great replacement before I go." Schuester answered.

"Is this 'cause those Carmel kids were so good? Because we can work harder." Said Mercedes.

"This isn't fair, Mr. Schuester. We can't do this without you." Pleaded Rachel. The Finn asked.

"So does that mean that I don't have to be in the club anymore or…?"

"Seriously?" I said, about to punch him in the gut when Schuester cut in.

"This isn't about you guys. Being an adult is about having to make difficult choices. It's not like high school. Sometimes you have to give up the things that you love. One day you guys are going to grow up and understand that. I have loved being your teacher."

You know it's bad when the one thing you could express yourself in turns around and bites you in the face. Normaly I don't let things like this bother me, I had to be strong. That's my mom told me before she died of a blood disease. I was eight then, and had to be the rock for my dad and brother's sake. It's not easy when the only other female in the house is your dog.

I was about to head home later on the next day, when my gut tingled again. Now what? It was then I looked up and found myself at the port-a-potties under the bleachers of the track field. The whole footbal team was surrounding one stall in a semi-circle. Then I recognized the cries for help. Five seconds later, I had sprinted through the guard at full force to see the poor victim trapped in the latrine. Artie Abrams had been wedged inside. Two of the guys were shielding me from Artie's aid. Finn and the player called Puck walked up shortly after.

"What's going on?" he asked. Puck answered with a sickly smirk.

"We got that wheelchair kid inside. We're going to flip it."

"Are you on crack, you soul-less bastards." I screamed. This got a lot a few of the guys turned on. But if they even tried to come close to me I'd neuter them right where they stood.

"Isn't that kind of dangerous?" Finn looked worried for Artie, which surprised me.

"He's already in a wheelchair. Come on, dude, we saved you the first roll."

I looked to Finn, assured that he would buckle under the peer pressure, but instead he shook his head in disgust at his old friends. Then he opened the portable toilet and carefully pulled a greatful Artie out. After my friend was safley away from the jocks, I ran to Artie's side.

"You okay?" I panted. He nodded up at me.

"What the hell, dude?" Puck snapped. "I can't believe you're helping out these losers."

"Don't you get it, man? We're all losers—everyone in this school. Hell, everyone in this town." Finn began and we all listened.

"Out of all the kids who graduate, maybe half will go to college, and two will leave the state to do it. I'm not afraid of being called a loser 'cause I can accept that that's what I am. But I am afraid of turning my back on something that actually made me happy for the first time in my sorry life."

"So what? Are you quitting to join Homo Explosion?" Puck mockedly asked. Finn's response stunned all of us.

"No. I'm doing both. 'Cause you can't win without me and neither can they."

As we walked away I left them with a few parting words, which probably should not be spoken aloud to a younger audience. With Finn wheeling Artie and me at their side, I noticed some people from Emerald Dreams lawn care had come to color the field. The had a boombox on loud, playing Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing.' We nodded our heads to the music, and to the same idea that zapped itself into our brains.

…

"I know what I'm talking about. I won my first dance competition when I was three months old."

Rachel went on as me, Artie and Finn made it into the auditorium. Kurt looked to Finn and said bluntly.

"This is a closed rehearsal. Except for you guys." He motioned to me and Artie, then Finn spoke.

"Look, I owe you guys an apology. I never should have quit. I don't want to be the guy that just drives around throwing eggs at people."

"That was you?" Rachel questioned. Kurt added.

"You and your friends threw pee balloons at me."

"You did what?" I turned to Finn. He looked ashamed of it.

"I know."

"You nailed all my lawn furniture to my roof." Kurt said stiffly

"I wasn't actually there for that, but I'm really sorry." Finn apologized and continued.

"Look, that isn't who I am, and I'm tired of it. This is what I want to be doing, with you guys. I used to think that this was like, the lamest thing on Earth, and maybe it is, but… we're all here for the same reason—'cause we want to be good at something."

He may have been a jock, but he was right. Then I saw the planning wheels turn in Finn Hidson's head. He turned to Artie.

"Artie, you play guitar, right? Think you could recruit the jazz band?"

"I do have pull there." He replied.

"All right. Mercedes, we need new costumes, and they have to be cool. Can you do that?"

Asking Mercedes to design costumes was like asking a duck to swim a marathon.

"Damn, don't you see what I got on?" She responded.

"Rachel, you can do choreography." This seemed to please Rachel, as a smile spread appeared. "Tina, what are you good at?" Finn asked, but she wasn't sure about it.

"I'm gonna need some help with flyers and poster design." I said. "I can draw really good, Tina can help me if she wants." She beamed.

"S-s-sure." She stated clearly.

"And what are you bringing to the table, Justin Timberlake?"

Mercedes asked, and I smiled as I knew the answer.

"I've got the music."

…

The stage was set. The moves were learned. The costumes were… well you get it. With all of us lined up, Finn and Rachel began as the rest of us backed as the chorus.

_Just a small town girl_

_Livin' in a lonely world_

_She took the midnight train goin' anywhere_

_Just a city boy_

_Born and raised in South Detroit_

_He took the midnight train goin' anywhere_

_A singer in a smokey room_

_The smell of wine and cheap perfume_

_For a smile they can share the night_

_It goes on and on and on and on_

_Strangers waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searchin' in the night_

_Streetlight, people_

_Livin' just to find emotion_

_Hidin' somewhere in the night_

_Workin' hard to get my fill_

_Everybody wants a thrill_

_Payin' anythin' to roll the dice_

_Just one more time_

_Some will win, some will lose_

_Some are born to sing the blues_

_And now the movie never ends_

_It goes on and on and on and on_

_Strangers waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searchin' in the night_

_Streetlight, people_

_Livin' just to find emotion_

_Hidin' somewhere in the night_

_Don't stop believin'_

_Hold on to that feelin'_

_Streetlight, people_

_Don't stop believin'_

_Hold on to that feelin'_

_Streetlight, people_

_Don't stop!_

As we finished the number, a familiar slow clap was heard. We looked and saw someone we thught was long gone.

"Good, guys. It's a nine. We need a ten." Schuester said. "Rachel, you need to hit the ones and the fives. Finn, I think if we worked on it, you could hit a high 'B'."

"So does this mean you're staying?" I asked. We all stood waiting for an answer.

"It would kill me to see you win nationals without me."

That just made my day, my whole school life in general, much better and worth living.

"From the top." And so began my time in the New Directions

'_El Dorado' by Sir Elton John_

'_Sit Down, You're Rockin' The Boat' from the musical "Guys and Dolls" _

'_You're The One That I Want' from the musical "Grease"_

'_Rehab' by Amy Winehouse_

'_Don't Stop Believing' by Journey_


End file.
